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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261851">in winter, all the singing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika'>maharlika</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>loki on ice [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Holidays, Ice Skating, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, Winter, figure skater loki, hockey player thor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:20:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The wind whips through Thor’s hair as they skate through fresh, black ice, newly frozen through the night. It’s a one-of-a-kind experience, the smooth slice of cold metal over the quiet crackle of the glacial surface, the push-pull of their skates, the brisk, refreshing chill in the air. Around them, arrows of pines shoot up from the ground, red-roofed houses peeking from between the gaps in the foliage. And rising from the east—the honeyed sun over the Baltic Sea, upon whose static waters they carefully tread, frozen a bare two inches on this glorious February day.</p><p>The scenery is sublime but Thor, as ever, only has eyes for his brother. </p><p>A figure skating AU fic for the winter holidays.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki/Thor (Marvel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>loki on ice [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in winter, all the singing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_shao/gifts">na_shao</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for elsa, the love of my life, i love you more than the kilimanjaro </p><p>- bibs</p><p>thank you to j and w for the beta ❄️</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind whips through Thor’s hair as they skate through fresh, black ice, newly frozen through the night. It’s a one-of-a-kind experience, the smooth slice of cold metal over the quiet crackle of the glacial surface, the push-pull of their skates, the brisk, refreshing chill in the air. Around them, arrows of pines shoot up from the ground, red-roofed houses peeking from between the gaps in the foliage. And rising from the east—the honeyed sun over the Baltic Sea, upon whose static waters they carefully tread, frozen a bare two inches on this glorious February day.</p><p>The scenery is sublime but Thor, as ever, only has eyes for his brother. </p><p>Rogers keeps the guide occupied—she’s thrilled to take a group of Olympic athletes on their first experience of wild ice skating.</p><p>So far, it hasn’t disappointed. There’s an almost impeccable freedom to it, being able to skate through swathes upon swathes of ice, unhindered by the walls of a rink or an arena. The clear surface stretches out before their eyes, endless as the sea, bound only by the horizon. </p><p>Bucky and Loki skate together, heads bent close between them. They’re speaking in Russian, and Thor can catch a few words here and there, but not enough to make sense of their conversation. </p><p>Beside him, Natasha snorts, understanding whatever it is that Thor’s brother is talking about with his best friend. She won’t tell him though—she knows how to keep a secret. </p><p>Thor wonders if she’d keep his and Loki’s, but he knows better than to risk it.</p><p>Because no one on this trip knows that Thor is madly in love with his little brother, and that his little brother loves him back.</p><p>Loki is little, of course, only in the most operative sense. At almost 40 years old, he is hardly Thor’s fragile younger brother anymore. It’s been a joy and a pleasure to see him fill out through the years, to see him grow into himself unconfined by the rigid rules and mores of figure skating. </p><p>It’s a joy and a pleasure, too, to see him skate today. Thor watches him skate backwards as he and Bucky continue their conversation, doing crossovers and complicated turns as naturally as if he’s still 24 and at the peak of his skating career. </p><p>But where Loki had been an anxious, neurotic mess back then, now he skates with joy and confidence, truly having transformed into the swan he always wished he was. </p><p>As if on cue, a wedge of swans calls out from overhead, and everyone takes a breather for a moment to watch them glide past. The guide—Brunnhilde—takes out a thermos from her bag as she leads them to their first rest stop. </p><p>As the others skate on ahead, Loki lingers, and when Thor catches up with him, their fingers lace together for a brief moment. Then they let go, and Thor, heart now pounding harder than any sort of physical exertion could have produced, follows Loki onto the shore, where the pines wait. </p><p>—</p><p>The tour takes up most of their day, but it’s a leisurely little romp. They skate through the Stockholm archipelago, stopping by little islands for a rest every so often. Thor tries not to hover too much around Loki, letting him skate with Bucky while he talks to Steve or to Natasha. He can’t help himself from skating beside him sometimes though—it’s impossible not to be drawn to his brother. Thor might as well have a magnet on his chest that drags him towards Loki’s body. </p><p>Somehow, the experience is lovely enough to take Thor’s mind off his brother, if only for a few brief moments. It doesn’t get old at all, being able to travel for miles and miles just on his skates.</p><p>“Don’t you wish we could get around like this all the time?” Steve asks as they watch Natasha and Bucky skate wide circles around each other, their forms still lithe and sure from a life of figure skating.</p><p>“It beats walking for sure,” Thor laughs. </p><p>Near the end of their trip, they take lunch at a small village, resting for coffee and tea in the waning sunlight of the Swedish winter. </p><p>Loki sits next to him on the bench they’ve got set out, sidling a bit too close. Thor can’t help the spike of anxiety when he does so. Even after all these years, it just doesn’t go away. But Loki doesn’t tease, only stays far enough for plausible deniability, but close enough that he can rest his hand on Thor’s thigh under the table. It’s a comforting weight. </p><p>Thor wants to kiss him very, very badly.</p><p>There will be time for that later, though. Later. Thor just has to stay good for the next few hours, and he’s been good—mostly—for years and years and years now. </p><p>It doesn’t keep him from thinking it though, what it would be like if he leaned over and kissed Loki in front of his best and oldest friends. He feels almost reckless enough to do it. At this point in their lives, what do they have to lose anymore?</p><p>Too much, Thor thinks. Still too much. </p><p>Loki squeezes his thigh once before desisting, joining in as Bucky and Steve start up some gossip about the judging scandals from the latest season.</p><p>Not for the first time, Thor is glad that Loki stopped skating when he did. He likes his brother like this: happy and content, if not entirely whole. </p><p>They’ll never entirely be whole, Thor thinks, not while they’re hiding the most important parts of themselves. But Thor hopes he’s enough to fill in for whatever Loki is missing out from a real, open relationship. He hopes for it every single day.</p><p>—</p><p>The beauty of winter this far up north is that they can experience the sunset as they end their trip. The amber light through the trees is almost like a wildfire, but very quickly it subsides, and they’re left to find their way home in the twilight. A car takes them back to Stockholm, and Loki and Thor take this opportunity to beg off hanging out with their friends for the rest of the day.</p><p>“I have some shopping I want to do,” Loki says. “Real eclectic places, you know. My usual.”</p><p>“I’ll hang with Captain America over here, then,” Bucky says, as if he’s being put upon and he and Steve haven’t been hooking up at every Grand Prix event since they were 17. Natasha gives Thor and Loki a look so piercing that Thor almost cringes, but she shrugs and goes with Steve and Bucky on a museum tour in Stockholm.</p><p>And then Thor and Loki are alone in a foreign country—one of Thor’s favorite ways to be alone.</p><p>They do go to Loki’s esoteric haunts, following directions on his phone to find shops tucked away into alleys and hidden on the highest floors of old buildings. Like this, they can loosen up just a bit more.</p><p>“No one will know who we are,” Loki murmurs, when he tries on a dark, flowing skirt for Thor in a beautiful boutique in the heart of Stockholm. As they’ve aged, it’s been easier and easier to pass under the radar of the all-seeing public eye, something that Thor is thankful for. Loki has even stopped dying the gray in his hair because it makes him less recognizable. Thor loves the streaks of silver in the sea of dark black, his eyes often catching on the way they glint in the light.</p><p>After Loki’s satisfied, they pick a cafe. A small, local one, where they’re forced to sit with their knees touching under a table that won’t stop swaying. </p><p>Thor gets them coffees and extra packets of sugar for Loki. As he makes his way back, he’s struck with a thought. </p><p>“Can I kiss you?” he asks, not looking at Loki as he sets their drinks down. He feels rather than sees his brother stiffen, but Loki doesn’t say no right away. </p><p>Thor glances over and sees him working it out, taking in the crowd in the cafe and weighing his desire versus his fear. </p><p>For once, here in the dim murmuring light of a cafe in Stockholm, desire wins out.</p><p>“Yes,” Loki says, almost unheard as it falls from the corner of his mouth. </p><p>Thor leans in, quick and easy, and pecks him on the lips.</p><p>Nothing fancy, as if they do this all the time. </p><p>Loki exhales, “Again.”</p><p>Thor obliges, lingering a tad longer the second time, his heart frothing itself into a frenzy in his chest. </p><p>Loki whimpers like glass shattering against Thor’s mouth, and Thor pulls away quickly.</p><p>He takes a sip of his drink and watches as Loki carefully, calmly dashes tears away from his eyes.</p><p>Thor puts his hand on top of Loki’s on the table and keeps it there for the rest of their afternoon.</p><p>—</p><p>They have dinner with their friends that night, and then they go dancing. Thor feels too old to do this by now, but it’s a pleasure to watch Bucky and Natasha tear up the dance floor. Loki is all grace on the ice but can’t dance for shit on land—so he sticks near Thor throughout the night. </p><p>And then another excuse has been readied: they’re splintering from the group early tomorrow morning, just the two brothers off to see family in Malmo. It’s only a half-lie. Uncle Frey and Aunt Freya are expecting them in a week. It’s a week that Loki and Thor hope to spend in a remote Swedish village, in an AirBnB overlooking a fjord, where they can fuck on every available surface and find opportunities to hold hands in public.</p><p>It’s not ideal, and Thor wishes they had more. But Loki has never once said anything about needing more, not even in the lowest points of their relationship.</p><p>Thor doesn’t mind being the needy one in this, though: it only means he’s provided Loki with enough. </p><p>—</p><p>There’s a little wintry pond beside their cozy homestay. Thor chose this home specifically for the view and for the chance to see Loki skating early in the morning, in the dusky dawn before the sun has risen.  </p><p>The ice is thicker here, so Loki goes through jumps and spins, otherworldly in his beauty and elegance. Dressed all in black, his arms rising and falling: like a starling in the snow, flying towards warmer climes. Thor has to look away, somehow abashed at seeing something so lovely. </p><p>He goes back inside the house instead, fiddles with the kettle and the tea infuser while Loki dances, carving a song of his own into the ice. The 8-hour drive through treacherous icy roads was worth it, just to hear the scratch of Loki’s skates through the cracked window while Thor makes breakfast. Just to catch glimpses of him before he disappears past Thor’s line of sight. </p><p>Later, while Loki sips his tea at the table, the neck of his thick, large sweater slips down one shoulder and Thor’s heart swells in his chest, leaving it so tight he almost can’t breathe. </p><p>Then he sucks Loki off on the kitchen counter, suckling that warm cock into his warmer mouth, and Loki returns the favor with a handjob in the shower, the steam and spray of it unspooling them both into languid contentment for the rest of the day.</p><p>All these years, and their desires have grown softer, though no less fiery. Channelled instead into things like this: a packed jar of Loki’s favorite tea from home, a little pouch with Thor’s beard conditioning set prepared the night before their flight. </p><p>As much as Thor wants more, even if this was all he had, it would be enough. How could it not be? Already, it feels too much. It always has, this impossible love. </p><p>Never in his wildest dreams did he think he could have this. Loki, only a scant distance away, would look up at the sound of Thor saying his name, would answer Thor’s call. He would. </p><p>What they have isn’t whole, and never will be, but maybe it’s something better. Something only for them. </p><p>Even shared between their hands, it overflows.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! </p><p>title is from mary oliver's poem "white-eyes"</p><p>kudos and comments would make a lovely holiday gift 🥰</p></blockquote></div></div>
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